“Ambition...the original of vices;Mother of hypocrisy, parent of envy, engineer of deceit”
This quote by Ernest Hemingway encapsulates a profound commentary on the darker aspects of ambition. It suggests that ambition, often viewed positively as a driving force for achievement, can also lead individuals down a path of moral compromise. By referring to ambition as "the original of vices," Hemingway implies that it is a foundational source of various negative traits and behaviors that can corrupt human relationships and integrity.
Ambition as a Vice:
Hypocrisy:
Envy:
Deceit:
Hemingway's quote serves as a cautionary tale about the inherent pitfalls of ambition. By framing it as a source of negative traits, he invites readers to contemplate the moral dilemmas associated with their aspirations and the impact these pursuits may have on both themselves and others. This multifaceted view encourages a more nuanced understanding of ambition, urging a balance between personal goals and ethical considerations.
Ernest Hemingway's observations on ambition highlight the complex nature of human desires and motivations. In today's fast-paced world, where success is often equated with worth, the implications of ambition resonate more than ever. As individuals and organizations strive for progress, the pursuit of achievement frequently gives rise to negative traits such as hypocrisy, envy, and deceit. This reality invites a critical examination of ambition's role in our lives and its impact on both personal relationships and broader societal dynamics.
“Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure only death can stop it.”
“Hail Mary full of Grace the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.' Then he added, 'Blessed Virgin, pray for the death of this fish wonderful though he is.”
“That's my town,' Joaquin said. 'What a fine town, but how the buena gente, the good people of that town, have suffered in this war.' Then, his face grave, 'There they shot my father. My mother. My brother-in-law and now my sister.' 'What barbarians,' Robert Jordan said. How many times had he heard this? How many times had he watched people say it with difficulty? How many times had he seen their eyes fill and their throats harden with the difficulty of saying my father, or my brother, or my mother, or my sister? He could not remember how many times he heard them mention their dead in this way. Nearly always they spoke as this boy did now; suddenly and apropos of the mention of the town and always you said, 'What barbarians.”
“He looked at his face carefully in the glass, put a big dab of lather on each cheek-bone. "It's an honest face. It's a face any woman would be safe with.""She'd never seen it.""She should have. All women should see it. It's a face that ought to be thrown on every screen in the country. Every woman ought to be given a copy of this face as she leaves the altar. Mothers should tell their daughters about this face.”
“Thou askest me to take things seriously? After what thou didst last night? When thou needest to kill a man and instead did what you did? You were supposed to kill one, not make one! When we have just seen the sky full of airplanes of a quantity to kill us back to our grandfathers and forward to all unborn grandsons including all cats, goats and bedbugs. Airplanes making a noise to curdle the milk in your mother's breasts as they pass over darkening the sky and roaring like lions and you ask me to take things seriously. I take them too seriously already.”
“Religion is the opium of the people. He believed that, that dyspeptic little joint-keeper. Yes, and music is the opium of the people. Old mount-to-the-head hadn't thought of that. And now economics is the opium of the people; along with patriotism the opium of the people in Italy and Germany. What about sexual intercourse; was that an opium of the people? Of some of the people. Of some of the best of the people. But drink was a sovereign opium of the people, oh, an excellent opium. Although some prefer the radio, another opium of the people, a cheap one he had just been using. Along with these went gambling, an opium of the people if there ever was one, one of the oldest. Ambition was another, an opium of the people along with a belief in any new form of government. What you wanted was the minimum of government, always less government. Liberty, what we believed in, now the name of a MacFadden publication. We believed in that although they had not found a new name for it yet. But what was the real one? What was the real, the actual, opium of the people? He knew it very well. It was gone just a little way around the corner in that well-lighted part of his mind that was there after two or more drinks in the evening; that he knew was there (it was not really there of course). What was it? He knew very well. What was it? Of course; bread was the opium of the people. Would he remember that and would it make sense in the daylight? Bread is the opium of the people.”